Other blogs are working, but neither of mine. I feel so special. Perfection in performance is a ridiculous fantasy, but this malfunction is becoming almost routine. The only part of this that makes me angry is that the error message contains a link to a troubleshooting page, but my error is not among those for which help is provided. The assholes who run Blogger can go fuck themselves. Don't offer to help people and then do nothing; just say you can't help. Just be honest, you worthless collections of bile.

I had an atrocious time at work last night. I hated the bitch I was working with. The entire time was spend listening to her witless prattle about needing to get laid. It was honestly worse than any possible caricature of the most boorish frat boy. She was, perhaps, the most base human being I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. I will do everything in my power to never again work with her again. If I have to, I may just try to get fired to get out of it.

45 Things She Wishes You Knew
41. Even nice girls like hushed dirty talk in public.
I would not know where to begin. I am a funny guy, but I cannot tell ribald jokes. They just don't work for me. Same principle here; so, I just don't think I could make that work, even were it what she wanted.

This morning, I once again dwelled upon the fact that you can have known someone for years, and then in one moment you realize that everything you've ever said to each other isn't a lie, but it's just no longer true.